NationStates Jolt Archive

[[OOC: This is a diplomatic meeting between Ventuus and Talshadar...others are welcome provided that they can spell. No large fleets please (except from myself and Talshadar, and we aren’t planning to start blowing stuff up). Otherwise, there’s plenty of space for a couple more to get involved.]]

The system possessed no immediately human-habitable worlds. Excepting that small fact it was remarkably like Sol; where the third planet should be habitable it is a world of water and ice, the only land a dozen miles underwater and the atmosphere redolent in gasses poisonous to humanity and its two small moons pulling the liquid about it. After the barren rock fourth world is a thick asteroid belt and beyond this the gas giants.

Above the largest of these rested a squadron of three three Ventish ships in high orbit. Two destroyers, each five hundred metres long, the Baleful and the Glorious. Dwarfing these is the Man o’ War HMS Irrepressible, nine hundred metres of Ventish craftsmanship and it is aboard this warship that a meeting is due to take place.


Mister Midshipman Gaines, Section 6a1 (6th deck for’ard missiles & rail), HMS Irrepressible,

Midshipman Gaines looked sternly down the row of ratings that stood to attention.

‘Men, today the ships hosts visiting ambassadors from another nation. Your Captain expects the very best of you. Discipline. I expect you to be the very model of the Ventish navy and if one of you so much as speaks out of turn before any of our visitors I shall him flogged! Do you understand?’

There was a grumbled chorus of affirmation.

‘I know that you think me hard, but I like to consider myself fair. If you men perform to the level expected of His Majesty’s fleet I shall see that an additional ration of rum is issued for you.’

This provoked a much more cheerful attitude on the deck. Elsewhere on the ship the same thing was happening, and had already happened to those currently on duty. The junior officer listed the special duties and cares that each in his section while his ice-blue eyes watched diligently for any signs of laxity on the part of the spacers. There.

‘Mister Jones! One pace! Leading Hand, to me.’

The hapless crewman took a single step forward as Jones’s Section’s Lead Rating stepped smartly from the ranks, turned neatly and marched down to stand behind the Midshipman.

‘This man has not shaved, nor is his uniform in suitable condition, Mister Berry. He is to serve hard penalty time for one week from tomorrow and his rum ration is docked from today until he finishes his service. Should he perform admirably before our guests he may have today’s ration.’

A salute from the Lead Rating. ‘Aye aye, Sir.’

The officer nodded. ‘Dismissed.’


Chef Keane, Galley A (Officers), HMS Irrepressible,

Steam billowed up as Keane lifted the top off one of the metal pots and breathed deeply.

‘Coming along nicely, Mister Lakely. No doubt our guests shall enjoy the spread. Mister Brooks! What are you doing with that lamb?’

Keane (Chef, Galley A) stormed over to Brooks (Junior Cook, Galley A) and pushed him away from the oven, turning down the temperature.

‘Mister Brooks! The last time I checked the Captain and his lordship did not like their lamb well-charred! Last warning, Mister Brooks, or you’re back to Galley H.’

The chef stalked through his Galley, watchful for the slightest error in preparation.


Mister Lancing, State Rooms D-F, HMS Irrepressible,

The last dividing bulkhead had been dismantled and carried out of the rooms, the formal dining table had been set up and laid out and Jenkins was feeling rather pleased with himself. He adjusted his waistcoat slightly and nodded in satisfaction. He turned from the vast windows facing out of the side of the ship (with a glorious view of the gas giant below) and turned to look at the plain interior wall intersected at regular intervals by carved oak panels to provide a bit of decoration. The “gentleman’s personal gentleman” clasped his hands behind his back and spoke to his juniors.

‘Mister Stone. Landscape scenes for the wall I feel. Let the ratings hang something green to compare to the view from the window. Mister Graves, what are you doing folding napkins into swans? We are not in the suburbs of Yarbrook, we are aboard a Man o’ War of His Majesty’s Navy. Square fold if you please.’

A newcomer steps through the door.

‘Ah, Mister Ellis. I trust your gentleman is well?’

The newcomer nodded ever so slightly. ‘Lord Halston is perfectly well thank you. He is in the war-room with the Captain. I was instructed to aid you if you require my assistance.’


Captain Sir Edward Dewsbury, War-Room, HMS Irrepressible,

The Captain looked at his holographic map, hands on the table before him and spoke to an old friend.

‘Now we wait for our guests, Nathaniel’

Nathaniel Hartwood, Viscount Halston, made a vague affirmative noise as he too looked at the map of the system and waited for the telltale blink of an approaching ship.

Two frigates, a battleship and a void hawk cruised at half speed towards the coordinates from which they would make their final jump to the rendezvous. Commodore Thomas Harrington on the bridge of the battleship HMS Hood was overseeing final preparations for the jump; the bridge was the usual hub of activity with orders, queries and general chatter bouncing back and forth.

“Sir, two minutes till jump coordinates reached Sir,” Hawkins the sensors officer barked out.”
“Hmm, excellent, tell the fleet to form up, standard delta formation, maintain speed.”

The Hood took point while the two frigates, Victory and Tenacious formed up either side with the void hawk Sakrin to the left of Victory.

“Sir, patterning nodes charged and ready Sir, ready to engage.”
“On my mark…now.” Harrington gave a nod and the patterning nodes in each of the ships fired into life forcing the fabric of space to bend, bringing two far off points closer together. The ships moved through the resulting 'hole in space' and the nodes powered down, returning to standby power levels and closing the vortexes.

The jump had been perfect, the fleet appearing just outside the gravitational pull of the largest planet and within visual range of the welcoming party. Harrington nodded approval and turned to his second in command Captain James Butler, “you have the bridge, bring us into shuttle range, open communication channels and prepare for departure, if anything important comes through patch it into my quarters.” “Very good Sir.”

Harrington eased himself out of his chair and made his way to his quarters to change into something more formal, Butler had changed prior to the final jump and he fully trusted Laton, the captain of Sakrin, to be ready on time.

The quartet of ships moved steadily towards the waiting trio above the gas giant, the Hood broadcasting identification signals and double checking relative positions of surrounding ships and any stellar objects within the area, meanwhile two shuttles were being primed and readied whilst the people they would be carrying were taking care of their own preparations.

OOC: each frigate is around 300m in length with the Hood the largest at 450m. Sakrin is only 150m in length and while the frigates and battleship are made of metal, plastics etc. Sakrin is a sentient ship, acutally a life form linked to its captain so any readings you get will differ greatly for that particular ship.

War-Room, HMS Irrepressible

‘Sir. Four vessels inbound, identifying themselves as of Talshadar. We have Hood, Victory, Tenacious and Sakrin.’

‘Understood Mister Harleigh. Do we have ranks and names of our visitors?’

‘No Sir.’

The Captain nodded and turned to his guest. ‘Nathaniel.’

The grey haired Viscount smiled at Dewsbury and turned toward the Lieutenant co-ordinating communications and gave his message to the newcomers, beginning with the traditional form.

...Welcome. This is the Ventish starship Irrepressible, accompanied by the Baleful and the Glorious, all of His Majesty’s fleet. Command of the ship is granted to the honourable Captain Sir Edward Dewsbury and carries the emissary of Victor IV, king, in the person of Viscount Hartwood of Halston, who offers you greetings. The Captain salutes you and extends the hospitality of the Irrepressible to senior officers and representatives. Light craft are being sent out to guide you in...

‘Thank you Nathaniel. Mister Falton, first formal contact, twenty-one guns. Fire when ready.’

The lieutenant saluted smartly. ‘Aye-aye Sir.’ He turned to his console and switched on a communications channel.

‘Main guns Seven-four to Seven-twenty-five on my command in ascending order. Fire salute!’

One after the other the railguns mounted on the seventh deck began firing with a half-second pause between each shot, rounds designed for this sort of exercise shooting out of the barrels at near the speed of light. Ten kilometres from the ship each one exploded, creating an orange fireball that lingered for a moment before dissipating in empty space, creating a line of fireballs clearly visible from the ships of Talshadar but off to one side – easily far enough away for the purpose of the salute to be clear.

‘Reload with main battle rounds and stand down.’ Falton turned from his console to salute the Captain. ‘Salute complete, Sir.’

‘Thank you Mister Falton. Mister Kennedy, send out the escort fighters.’

‘Aye-aye Sir!’ Kennedy turned to his console. ‘Two fighter craft, escort our guests into the upper hangar.’

Two small craft flew out of the hangars at the top of the warship, moving at a gentle speed toward the visiting ships.

“Sir I have an incoming message from the Ventish ships, and you may want to take a look outside.”

Harrington paused briefly in putting on his jacket to flick on the audio and turned to the window, giving him a view of the four ships with the gas giant below. The message played itself out when suddenly the Irrepressible began firing its main guns, ‘ah, a 21 gun salute, haven’t seen one of those in a while’ he smiled, datavised a few orders to Butler, finished getting dressed and then started making his way to the bay where the shuttle was being prepared.

“Hawkins, send the following message to the Ventish ships:

This is Captain James Butler of HMS Hood, acting Captain of the Victory and Tenacious, representing the Edenist Captain Laton and the Commodore Thomas Harrington. Ambassador from His Majesty King Peter and Queen Estarra, we thank you for your ship guides, our shuttles with personnel will be launching shortly.

Butler then opened a link with Sakrin, “Could you please begin our salute Sakrin?” Of course James, beginning now. Twenty-one combat wasps streaked out of an underside hanger, essentially rockets with an onboard computer, they streaked out and twenty of them began climbing in a spiral with the last one climbing vertically in the centre of the vortex. When they were safely above Sakrin the twenty exploded simultaneously, creating a fiery tornado for a few brief seconds before fading. At the moment of maximum brightness the last one exploded, this one had a small amount of antimatter instead of conventional explosives, one by one the magnetic shields shut down in a pre-arranged order, producing a spear of energy as the antimatter collided with an equal amount of matter, it shot upwards through the centre, brighter than any of the previous explosions before fading just as the others did.

Butler smiled in satisfaction, “Thank you Sakrin, very impressive.” No problem James. “Is Captain Laton ready?” He’s just finishing the final checks on the shuttle, he will be launching any minute now.

“Hawkins you have the bridge.” James turned and took the lift to the shuttle bay; the doors opened revealing an organized chaos as final checks were made. “Ah James,” Harrington leaned out of the right side of the shuttle he would be piloting, “glad you could make it, we’re launching any second so get in.” He walked over to the left side and swung himself in, buckling himself in and closing the shuttle doors, engines fired up as the bay crew left, the first set of opened then closed as the shuttle was moved on rails to the space in between. Next the outside doors opened, a brief rush as the air was sucked into space then all was quiet except for the hum of engines and electronics.

“HMS Irrepressible, this is Commodore Thomas Harrington in shuttle 3, we are leaving Hood and are on our way to meet your shuttles, Captain Laton will be joining us momentarily.”

War-Room, HMS Irrepressible

Eyes watched through viewports as a tornado of fire lit up in the darkness of the surrounding space. On several decks there were appreciative murmurs as the antimatter was released, spiking a pure white pillar of flame through the crimson and yellow of the standard weapons.

‘A rather expensive salute. Rather impressive though.’ Nathaniel turned from the main view screen in the War-Room. ‘Edward, has your man said if the formal arrangements complete?’

The Captain glanced up at the King’s envoy. ‘Lancing said it would be done in...’, a glance at his hunter’s watch, ‘...about ten minutes from now. It should take at least that long for our guests to arrive and for us to greet them.’

‘You’re sure?’

This brought a dry chuckle from the commanding officer. ‘Lancing came highly recommended by the Agency, and has never failed me in a decade. Have faith my friend.’


Javelin Flight, 544 Naval Light Squadron, in-space between Irrepressible and Hood

‘Irrepressible, this is FO Harper on Javelin. Two kilometres from Hood in five, turning to maintain distance.’

Flight Officer Harper clicked off his outgoing message system as the pilot of his companion craft spoke over the short distance system.

‘What do you think Harper, extravagant salute?’

‘Maybe, looks nice though. Reminds me of the Jubilee’

‘That’s the truth. Not often we get to do this sort of thing either.’

‘No it’s not. Hold pattern, with any luck these representatives won’t take too long.’

Shuttle 3 drew away from Hood at a steady pace, hydrogen powered engines glowing in the darkness. Harrington piloted the shuttle towards the two waiting fighter craft when the comms lit up, "This is Captain Laton, approaching your position, ETA two minutes." The shuttle came to a halt four hundred metres from the escorts while they waited for Laton's shuttle to catch up with them and Harrington turned to James.

"Ok, I can't speak for Laton so much because he answers to a different authority, but as for us, we are representing the Royal Family at this meeting so lets act to all intents and purposes as if they were here, the highest standards".
James nodded and straightened his dress coat, "understood Sir."

James turned as a motion caught his eye and saaw that Laton had arrived,2Laton has just arrived Sir." "Very good."

HMS Irreprssible, we are in position and have met with your fighter craft. Ready to begin approach."

OOC: feel free to bring them in, otherwise this bit will take ages going back and forth.

Space, uninhabited neutral system

...Thi is Irrepressible Control, we acknowledge, hangar is ready for you...

...Javelin this is Irrepressible Control, bring our guests in to for’ard-upper-starboard, the Captain is waiting for them...

The two fighter craft turned in space and moved at a steady pace toward the man o’ war, three times the length of a twentieth century aircraft carrier. The ship’s design is peculiar, with a central ‘body’ and several large vertical ‘fins’ held away from the ship, the majority of the main guns are positioned upon these structures and as the shuttles and fighters approach the visitors would be able to see that the ship’s missile tubes are located within the framework supporting the ‘fins’, keeping the explosive contents safe from stray fire. Additional guns and tubes are visible upon the main body of the warship, although fewer in number than on the parts jutting out of the main body. Three hangars are visible as they approach on the starboard side – for’ard and rear upper and a single larger hangar set lower down on the craft.

...Sirs, this is Flight Officer Harper in your escort, please enter the for’ard hangar near the top of the ship, the Captain and Viscount Halston await you inside...

The two fighters peel off as they approach the Irrepressible and Control transmitted the landing location in the hangar.

HMS Irrepressible

The hangar was much as those upon other warships, a metal-walled space where technicians worked upon spacecraft and a faint smell of hot metal and warm oil drifted into the nostrils, air kept in by the faintly visible energy shield across the entrance (designed to allow large objects through but not small). There were four doors leading out of the hangar – two in the long wall that marked the centre of the ship and two in the narrow ends of the spacecraft bay. In front of one of the two doors in the long bulkhead there stood two rows of Ventish Astrines standing smartly to attention.

The Astrine is the product of rigorous training, often harsh living conditions, and constant conflict against those sections of native populace who refuse to bow to the flag of the United Worlds. He stands perfectly straight in diligently polished crimson and white powered armour designed to enhance agility, mobility, speed, strength and the other physical attributes required for war. The armour is not thick – it could probably deflect small-arms fire, but not the weaponry that many nations use, but such weaponry could penetrate most powered armour seen upon the soldiers of most spacefaring nations. His weapon is the Ritchie Mark IX, a rail-rifle built with two thirty-round magazines, one of explosive shell and one armour penetrating. It is held shouldered, his gun at exactly the same angle as his comrades’. Fastened to the hip of each is a sheathed blade, obviously used purely for ceremony and removed during day-to-day activity.

Before the door stood the grey-haired Nathaniel Hartwood, his stern face carefully immobile and every element of his clothing (black morning suit with britches, top hat, gold-chased white waistcoat, black cravat, black leather gloves, polished black cane topped with a golden knob engraved with a hart and trees) impeccable, the olive branch pin of the Diplomatic Corps pinned neatly to his lapel and the cross of the Order of Lysander hung about his neck from its white, red and blue ribbon.

Next to him was the rather less iron-stiff figure of Captain Dewsbury whose black hair was neatly pulled back in the ponytail favoured by the senior ranks of the Service, his white and navy-blue uniform beautifully turned out and meticulously clean. His bare hands were clasped behind his back and the archaic fore-and-aft hat was upon his head. The insignia of Flag Captain and Commodore were clear upon his epaulettes and sleeves.

The two shuttles cruised gently past the outer fins of the ship and through the shimmmering field covering the entrance of the hanger, Harrington touched down beside Laton's ship with a slight roar of the down thrusters to bring the ship to a gentle landing.

"End of the line, all passengers please disembark," Harrington said as he shut down the engines and unbuckled himself. He stood and walked over to the door controls, taking a moment to straighten his jacket and shift his sword to a more comfortable position. Punching in the door release code the door folded downwards to form a ramp which he and James walked down, boots clanging somewhat dramatically on the metal.

He and James then turned right and walked past the front of the shuttle towards the waiting delegation, out of the corner of his eye Harrington saw Laton keeping pace a few feet to the right but angled to meet up with them. Dressed in a comfortable yet well-fitted dark blue flight suit the only extravagance he allowed himself was the signet ring of his House worn on the little finger of his left hand; three moons on a field of stars with a rising serpent in the background. Despite this he was well turned out with his blonde hair cut short for ease in space travel, augmented violet eyes and clean shaven, carrying very little fat he moved with the ease of someone accustomed to deep space environments.

In sharp contrast were Thomas and James, Harrington wearing his dark green and white dress uniform, green trousers with a white stripe up the outer edge of each leg, green jacket with six white-gold buttons and a white silk cord running from right shoulder to the sword scabbard on his left hip. The cuffs were also white and two medals adorned the left side of his jacket, he wore no hat and his now pure white beard and mustache had been neatly trimmed. James was dressed in the same colours as Harrington, but minus the ceremonial sword and white cord, only one medal was showing on his jacket.

All three stopped in front of the main delegation at the same time; coming to a halt in front of two men; each man saluting with his right hand, Harrington grasping the hilt of his sword with his left.

Addressing the man with the staff, who had to be the Viscount, "Commodore Harrington Sir, ambassador from Their Majesties King Peter and Queen Estarra.” Then turning to the other man, no doubt the Captain of the ship, “Permission to come aboard Sir.”

He dropped his right hand back to his side, standing straight backed, eyes fixed at a point just above the men’s heads.

As the three visitors saluted the row of Astrines upon either side of them transferred their rifles from their right hands to their left, slid them down to tap on the metal of the hangar floor and saluted smartly just as the Ventish captain’s left hand removed his hat and his right one came to his forehead in a salute and the Viscount bowed formally. Dewsbury spoke first.

‘Permission granted, Commodore. Welcome aboard gentlemen. I am Captain Sir Edward Dewsbury of His Majesty’s Ship of the Line Irrepressible. I present the Viscount Halston, Nathaniel Hartwood, emissary of His Majesty Victor, fourth of that name, King of the United Worlds of Ventuus, Emperor of the Ventish Dependencies across the stars, Jeshinnesh of Ophelia-Kadrin, amongst other titles.’

Nathaniel straightened himself as the right hands of the various saluting parties returned to their sides. Dewbury tucked his hat under his left arm as the viscount spoke.

‘Gentlemen, a pleasure to make your acquaintance. I am informed that my colleague’s man has converted some of the staterooms into a comfortable dining room and I would suggest that we discuss what we came here to discuss over the captain’s spread.’

Apparently the soberly dressed individual was not quite as harsh of character as his features would suggest, although his face remained in its carefully neutral expression. Indeed if the visitors could have seen the faces of the astrines to either side of them through the mirrored faceplates they would have seen the harsh and severe features common to those of Ventish birth.

“Pleasure to be on board Captain, you command a very impressive ship and I am honoured to meet you Viscount Halston, if may I present my companions,” gesturing to his right he indicated James, “this is Captain James Butler of HMS Hood, acting Captain of the Victory and the Tenacious.” James bowed from the waist, then motioning to his left; “and this is the Serpent Laton,” who inclined his head slightly first at the Captain then the Viscount.

Refocusing his attention on the Viscount, “A captain’s spread sounds delightful Viscount Halston, I would relish the chance to eat Ventish food.”

Most warships tend to neglect the simple pleasures of life that can be found in attention to detail and architectural endeavour. Bare grey metal bulkheads form the largest part of the majority of spacefaring military vessels with little effort toward aesthetics. This certainly appeared to be the case here, at least along the main transit passageways throughout the ship. A plain steel-grey paint, interspersed with numbers, directions or other forms of information in stencilled colours or shades. The corridors were clearly illuminated by lighting units built into deck and deckhead. Dotted lines in different colours ran along floor or ceiling, presumably making directions for different parts of the ship. Occasionally members of the Irrepressible’s crew could be seen going about their tasks, in all such cases a smart salute is granted to the small group of officers.

Several times they passed through thicker than average bulkheads with large black stencilled numbers and letters informing the reader than they were passing into a different Section. The edges of blast doors could be seen in the edges of the passage at these points. Presumably these doors could be sealed to keep vacuum, or a boarding party, out in case of need.

After a few minutes walk through the ship’s bowels including a few sets of wide stairs to other levels (presumably designed to allow armoured individuals to travel in haste) the party arrived at a door bracketed by a pair of Astrines in their red-and-white. Further down the same corridor can be seen two other pairs of the armoured soldiers, each guarding a door. The Captain spoke.

‘Gentlemen, our supper awaits us.’

He gave a nod to one of the Astrines, whose rifle butt clickedto the floor as he saluted and opened the door, revealing an enlarged stateroom that was completely at odds with the plain, military aspect of the rest of the ship seen thus far.

The slightly ridged metal deck had been overlaid with polished hardwood, fitting perfectly along the walls with the only aberration being those slats laid down where the bulkheads between the three staterooms had been taken down. Along the centre of the stateroom a dark red and gold carpet had been laid down upon which sat a long, formal dining table whose surface was covered with a plain white tablecloth, set for seven. The long grey bulkhead to their right were similarly been covered with polished hardwood panelling upon which were hung several landscape scenes. Opposite the bulkhead bearing the landscape paintings were a series of large rectangular port-holes that provided a glorious view of the gas giant below. Upon the wall behind the head of the table was mounted a portrait of a severe-featured man with black hair greying at the temples, to the left of the portrait was hung a banner pole wrapped in the colours of the United Worlds and to its right a similar stave wrapped in the Starred Ensign of His Majesty’s Navy, their hafts crossing beneath the portrait. A table had been set up at the facing wall of the stateroom behind the foot of the table upon which were a selection of refreshments guarded by the “Gentlemen’s Personal Gentlemen” Lancing and Ellis and the two members of the ship’s crew drafted in, Misters Snow and Graves. Also present are two gentlemen in similar uniforms to that of Dewsbury, although slightly less elaborate, who swiftly introduce themselves as Captains Ecclestone (of the Baleful) and zho’Kaiss (of the Glorious). Ecclestone bears the now-familiar harsh features and slender build of the Ventish, the latter being being Skandi, and so broader of shoulder and with more solid features.

The two individuals in black three-piece suits stepped forward and indicated the seats to be taken. At the head of the table was Captain Dewsbury, on his right Commodore Harrington and his left the Viscount Halston. Seated beside Harrington and Hartwood respectively were Butler and Laton, and beside them Ecclestone and zho’Kaiss. Within seconds of everyone being seated an aperitif of a small glass was placed before them containing a dry sherry, alongside this a tiny glass dish containing a pair of olives, neatly punctured by silver toothpick. Picking up his glass Captain Dewsbury made the traditional start of meal toast.

‘Your health, gentlemen.’

After the toasts had been made and the aperitifs consumed the four waiting upon the party came forward and whisked away the various articles as Hartwood opened the meal with small talk prior to the more serious conversation to come.

‘I trust that your journey to the system was uneventful? It is not the most noticeable one in the galaxy.’

As he spoke cutlery and plates were placed before the group, some form of thinly sliced cured meat and a quartered fruit the size of a plum but tasting much like melon, if with a slightly bitter aftertaste that compliments the peculiarly sweet meat perfectly.